m4dd0g
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Aug 20, 2005
- Messages
- 3,664
Johnny and the anvil of pain. In 3 parts (below)
Once again Im experimenting ... i was going for cheesy heroic fantasy, but the comedy factor slugged me from behind and left me locked up in the cellar while it had its wicked way with my story.
Feedback always welcome
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Johnny and the anvil of pain
The barren mountain range that separated the sea of souls from the old kingdom was formally known as the bloodied sisters due to its unusual redish hue. To the simple villages that lived in its shadow the jagged hills were referred to as Ayunts larder. The villagers' naming logic was irrefutable: 'thangs that lived in larders got et'; or more accurately in this case, things that got in the way of a 300ft long, thousand year old, fire breathing dragon, got pierced, flayed, roasted, eviscerated, ground up, then 'et'. This menagerie of pain was renowned to occur quicker than a peasant could mutter the words, 'holy shit, what a big fucking lizard'
Its no great surprise to anyone, but, the human race has always had an abundance of idiots, and a good percentage of these dub themselves with the grand title of 'hero', which unfortunately for them, must be proven by some fantastical deed such as the slaying of dragons. Over the centuries numerous foolish adventurers would sally forth into Ayunts larder to pit their steel, magic or iron faith against his godlike power, of course, not a single one has achieved more than 5 minutes of 'ho hum' entertainment for the monstrous brute.
So why would any sane mortal of reasonable intelligence, trek through Ayunt's larder, find the entrance to his home and climb the 2 miles underground into the heart of his lair? Because Ayunt had gotten old, so old in fact he had started acting senile. When humans reach this age (if heroic idiocy doesnt kill them first) they effectively become babies again: lots of spontaneous shitting, drooling, hand waving and talking nonsense. The brains of very old dragons arent all that different, but where as frail old grandpa peeing in the broom closet is quite harmless, a 100 tons of furious reptile perching itself on the cathedral roof and hurling streams of fire into the surrounding township most certainly is. It was this very difference that forced the villages into action. The fact of the matter was: Ayunt had to be put down and some unlucky person had to do it.
After a hastily assembled meeting in the smoking ruins of the town hall, a lottery of likely candidates was thrown together and a single name was drawn out of a hat. A young wannabe knight named Johnny had drawn the short straw. Crouching silently, trembling in fear, a scant 200 yards from the slumbering beast, the following words scrolled ominously across his consciousness,'im soo fucking screwed!'
to be continued...(if people genuinely want more of Johnny)
Once again Im experimenting ... i was going for cheesy heroic fantasy, but the comedy factor slugged me from behind and left me locked up in the cellar while it had its wicked way with my story.
Feedback always welcome
--------------------------------
Johnny and the anvil of pain
The barren mountain range that separated the sea of souls from the old kingdom was formally known as the bloodied sisters due to its unusual redish hue. To the simple villages that lived in its shadow the jagged hills were referred to as Ayunts larder. The villagers' naming logic was irrefutable: 'thangs that lived in larders got et'; or more accurately in this case, things that got in the way of a 300ft long, thousand year old, fire breathing dragon, got pierced, flayed, roasted, eviscerated, ground up, then 'et'. This menagerie of pain was renowned to occur quicker than a peasant could mutter the words, 'holy shit, what a big fucking lizard'
Its no great surprise to anyone, but, the human race has always had an abundance of idiots, and a good percentage of these dub themselves with the grand title of 'hero', which unfortunately for them, must be proven by some fantastical deed such as the slaying of dragons. Over the centuries numerous foolish adventurers would sally forth into Ayunts larder to pit their steel, magic or iron faith against his godlike power, of course, not a single one has achieved more than 5 minutes of 'ho hum' entertainment for the monstrous brute.
So why would any sane mortal of reasonable intelligence, trek through Ayunt's larder, find the entrance to his home and climb the 2 miles underground into the heart of his lair? Because Ayunt had gotten old, so old in fact he had started acting senile. When humans reach this age (if heroic idiocy doesnt kill them first) they effectively become babies again: lots of spontaneous shitting, drooling, hand waving and talking nonsense. The brains of very old dragons arent all that different, but where as frail old grandpa peeing in the broom closet is quite harmless, a 100 tons of furious reptile perching itself on the cathedral roof and hurling streams of fire into the surrounding township most certainly is. It was this very difference that forced the villages into action. The fact of the matter was: Ayunt had to be put down and some unlucky person had to do it.
After a hastily assembled meeting in the smoking ruins of the town hall, a lottery of likely candidates was thrown together and a single name was drawn out of a hat. A young wannabe knight named Johnny had drawn the short straw. Crouching silently, trembling in fear, a scant 200 yards from the slumbering beast, the following words scrolled ominously across his consciousness,'im soo fucking screwed!'
to be continued...(if people genuinely want more of Johnny)
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the johnny.